


Touch

by StoneCatcher



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, sad boner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneCatcher/pseuds/StoneCatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That perfect face was contorted in ecstasy, cheeks flushed red, lips ever so slightly parted. Obviously, nobody had ever made love to him in such a way. Nobody had touched him so tenderly, taken the time to build towards a screaming climax.<br/>Jean understood. He understood what it was like, to have a body that craved passion but only received pain.<br/>~<br/>Jean = BLU Spy<br/>Adrien = RED Spy<br/>BLU spy thinks about RED spy and touches himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Once again  
> Jean = BLU Spy  
> Adrien = RED Spy

The BLU Spy sighed listlessly, rolling onto his bed and kicking off his shoes haphazardly. Usually, he was much more cautious, meticulous, about his personal effects. At the time being, however, he didn't care. His mask was pulled up and off, leaving his hair disheveled and messy. Soon after, his suit jacket was shed, and his tie loosened.

Again, he sighed.

 

Today had been... taxing, to say the least. In the end, his team had lost. Still, one good thing had come from it. That little, victorious smirk on the RED Spy's face... Mh. The way he moved in battle, and spoke, when they were in a cease fire.

 

There was so much to appreciate about him. His lips, his eyes, his hands, his voice... Jean groaned a bit, hand subconsciously sneaking down along his torso, kneading the front of his pants. He'd had so many sexual escapades and rendezvous – All in the name of getting information; Getting what he wanted – Yet all of them left something to be desired.

 

A gentle, passionate lover. Someone to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, touch him with tender hands. Jean's hips rolled up into his palm, his free hand moving to his mouth. He gently bit his fingers, pulling his gloves off, one by one.

His shirt was soon untucked from his trousers, a hand slipping down into his pants and needily rubbing against his half-erect cock. Jean's other hand, not left forgotten, climbed up his torso, fingers dancing lightly across his chest. He could feel his skin prickling, and if he closed his eyes tight enough, he could almost imagine it was the RED Spy's hands; Not his own.

 

All too quickly, Jean was pulling his cock from his boxers and gasping, bucking his hips up into his hand, scratching his fingers delicately over his chest. He could see Adrien straddling his hips, his cock bouncing as Jean thrust into him.

That perfect face was contorted in ecstasy, cheeks flushed red, lips ever so slightly parted. Obviously, nobody had ever made love to him in such a way. Nobody had touched him so tenderly, taken the time to build towards a screaming climax.

Jean understood. He understood what it was like, to have a body that craved passion but only received pain.

 

And there Adrien was, crying out the BLU Spy's name, as he himself cried out for the RED.

 

Except when his eyes opened, Jean was alone. His skin held nothing but the feeling of his own hands, and an envy for the touch of another man.

The Spy sighed again, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, feeling worse than he had before.

 


End file.
